


At His Mercy

by Bounding-Heart (Brief_and_Dreamy)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Albus knows it, But Draco loves it, Communication, Consensual Non-Consent, Crying, Draco would do anything for Albus, Light Bondage, Love, M/M, Rape Roleplay, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, and is a little bratty, loving kink, romantic BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22923004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brief_and_Dreamy/pseuds/Bounding-Heart
Summary: Draco indulges Albus' favourite kink.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter
Comments: 21
Kudos: 177
Collections: HP Kinkfest 2020





	At His Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This fic portrays consensual non-consent, or rape-play. Both characters are participating with enthusiastic consent, but the fic could still be upsetting, so please take care. 
> 
> Love and love to Magpiefngrl for betaing. ❤️❤️❤️

Not knowing where or when it would happen made the anticipation even more delicious. Albus slid off the window sill and thumped to the floor. He peered through the darkness of Draco's study and inhaled the familiar scent of furniture polish and pipe smoke. He loved it in here. He loved sitting curled in one of the enormous overstuffed arm chairs, pretending to read a law ledger, in reality watching Draco as he worked. He loved the way Draco let his usually tidy hair fall across his forehead as he concentrated and the way his eyes flickered with pleasure as he drafted another devastatingly unknottable line in a contract. He loved watching Draco's fingers twitch his quill across a piece of parchment, remembering the other places those long, pale fingers had been, the other things they'd done. Albus took a moment to clear his head. He didn't want to get over-wrought before they'd even started. 

He crept through the shadowed room, around the dragon-leather sofa, over the Egyptian carpet, past Draco's desk, which had once belonged to an attaché to King Edward the First. He edged through the open door into the corridor, listening hard. The Manor rang with crystalline silence, sharp and dangerous. Albus wondered how long Draco would make him wait this time. 

When he reached the grand staircase, he paused. He nervously rubbed his fingertip against the railing, and imagined Draco telling him to stop, that he'd rub the gilt away. He imagined retorting that gilt was garish and poncey and he was doing Draco a favour by ruining it. And Draco answering that of course Albus would say that, having been raised in what amounted to little more than a barn. Albus grinned. The Manor remained silent. 

They'd fucked on that staircase once. Albus remembered how it had dug into his shoulder blades. He remembered not caring. He began to climb. 

It was as quiet upstairs as it had been downstairs. He shoved his hands into his pockets and thought. Draco didn't usually make him wait this long. His adrenaline rush was beginning to dissipate. He checked the rooms, one by one. No sign of life in the master bedroom. The library was empty and so was the upstairs parlour. He entered the blue guest room, but found no one inside. Frustrated, he walked to the window and gazed out at the moon.

Had he got the wrong night? He was sure they'd agreed on Saturday; they were leaving for Stockholm on Sunday. No, this was definitely correct. Had Draco forgotten? He couldn't have, he knew how much Albus had been looking forward to their game. Albus ran his fingers through his hair and kicked peevishly at the wall. Fuck this. He was going to find a book in the library and just wait Draco out. He turned towards the door, took a single step, and stopped short as the point of a wand jabbed into his neck. He gasped with a shock of genuine fear. 

A strong hand tightened on his shoulder. 'Well, well. What have we here?' whispered a voice, sending hot tingles over Albus' skin. He bit down on his lower lip so as not to grin and wrenched himself into character.

'I…' He made himself sound scared. 'Mr Malfoy. I didn't think you were home.'

'Poor thinking,' said Draco, an edge to his voice that made Albus shiver. 'Tell me, Mr Potter. Is there a particular reason why you're creeping about my home in the dead of night?'

'I don't know,' said Albus. He didn't. By this point, he'd grown bored of concocting stories and just wanted to speed through to the good part. 'Curiosity?'

'Well, you know what they say about that,' said Draco. With effortless strength, he spun Albus around and shoved him hard against the wall. He thrust his wand beneath Albus' chin. 

'That it's normal and healthy?' Albus arched his neck. He licked his lips and looked up at Draco's face. Backlit by moonlight, it fell mostly in shadow, but for his glittering eyes and the cruel curve of his lips. 

'That it can get you killed,' said Draco. He slid his wand down Albus' throat, down his chest, pointed it directly at Albus' heart.

'You can't kill me,' said Albus. 'You'd never get away with it.'

'I suppose not.' Draco gave a slow nod. 'Best turn you straight over to the Aurors, then.'

'No!' said Albus.

'No,' echoed Draco. 'You wouldn't like that, would you?'

Albus shook his head. 'If you let me go, I won't be any further bother. I promise.'

'I know that,' said Draco with a carnivorous smile. 'And yet, I've got you here, all on your own and at my mercy. Why would I let you leave?'

'To be kind and forgiving?' said Albus. He batted his eyelashes. 

Draco pursed his lips, a spark of amusement in his eyes. 'Regretfully,' he said, 'I am not the kind or forgiving sort. No. You won't be going anywhere for some time, Mr Potter. You've invaded my home and interrupted my sleep, and now, I'm afraid, you're going to have to pay the price.'

'The price?' whispered Albus. His heart raced. Draco had a way of making the game feel real. He could look devastatingly dangerous when he wanted to. 'What sort of price? You don't need money.'

'Money?' said Draco. 'How very crass. No, I had something else in mind.' He slid the tip of his wand the rest of the way down Albus' chest.

'What?' said Albus, watching as his buttons popped off one by one. He looked back up at Draco. 'No. You don't mean… You aren't going to…'

'I'm going to do whatever I like with you, Mr Potter. And there's nothing you can do to stop me.' He smiled. 

Albus knew it was an act, but even still, his heart went cold. 'Please, Mr Malfoy. I'm so sorry. I fucked up, but I'll never do it again. Please don’t hurt me.'

Draco cupped his jaw. 'You should have thought of that before you trespassed. Now,' he lowered his hand and wrapped his fingers around Albus' throat, 'get on the bed.'

'You're out of your mind,' said Albus. 'Stop touching me.' He grabbed Draco's wrist and tried to pull it off. 

Draco squeezed him harder. 'I said get on the bed.'

Albus couldn't breathe. His knees sagged and he scratched at Draco's fingers. His heart started pounding inside his head. Draco waited, watching his face. Just when Albus started seeing stars, Draco let go. Pressing his palms against the wall to hold himself up, Albus sucked in air. Before his head had cleared Draco grabbed his arm and started dragging him across the room. 

'No!' Albus shouted. He lost his footing and stumbled, then leapt at Draco, trying to push him away. Draco smacked him and they fought. Albus tried his best, but within seconds Draco had hauled him up onto the bed and was on top of him. The weight of Draco's body holding him down made Albus wild. He fought in earnest, writhing, trying to twist his legs into a position where he could kick. Draco was too strong; he forced Albus' arms above his head and pinned his wrists to the mattress. 

Draco looked into his eyes, searching, intense; Albus knew he was checking in. He gave Draco an exasperated little nod, then said, 'You're really going to do this, aren't you? You're a monster.'

Draco's face relaxed into an approximation of smug pleasure. 'This will hurt less if you don't resist.' He used the silky, insinuating tone he used during the game, and also when he was talking down an opponent at work. The tone that said You are nothing, I will effortlessly destroy you for my own amusement. He gripped Albus' jaw and held it in place, leaning close. 'I am going to fuck you, Mr Potter. You will not stop me, and it will be significantly more painful if you try.'

'Uhn…' Albus arched under a rush of arousal. His cock throbbed. 'I…' he caught his breath. God, he loved this. 'You're a bastard,' he gasped. 

'I can assure you, I am not,' said Draco. 'My lineage is centuries old. I'm a Malfoy.' He raised his hand. 'And we take what we want.' He made a waving motion, and Albus' pants, jeans and trainers vanished. 

Cool air rushed over Albus' bare skin. 'No!' he said, twisting again. 'No. Don't. I'll scream!' 

'Go ahead. In fact, please do.' Draco opened his fingers, smirked, then snapped them shut again. 

Something closed around Albus' wrists. Rope. Thick, prickly rope. He yanked his arms, but they'd been fastened to the head board. His cock gave another throb. He closed his eyes and drank in the heat coursing over his skin. When he looked up again, Draco was running his eyes over Albus' naked body. The hunger in his gaze, Albus knew, was entirely unfeigned. He allowed himself a quick smirk, and said, 'Look. Please. I've learned my lesson. Let me go. I won't tell anyone about anything.'

Draco ignored Albus' plea. He drew his hand along the side of Albus' neck, then slid it down his chest. 'I am going to enjoy this,' he said, and pinched Albus' nipple hard enough to make him yell. The clink of a belt buckle told Albus that Draco was freeing his cock from his trousers. A rustle of fabric, and he felt it, hot and hard against his thigh. He sucked in a breath. 'Mr Malfoy, please.'

'Shhh,' said Draco. He used his knee to force Albus' legs apart. The wet sounds of Draco slicking his cock with lube made Albus' arse clench in anticipation. Perspiration prickled his skin. Draco lined himself up. 

Albus pulled at the ropes tying him to the headboard. He twisted and arched. 'No,' he said, panting. 'No, don't. Please don't. Don't do this, Mr Malfoy, please!' He made his voice break. 'Please!' He felt Draco hesitate. Shit. He caught and held Draco's eyes, showing his true self for a second. 

Draco inhaled, blinked, and said, 'There's no use crying, Mr Potter. You've only yourself to blame.' And with that, he thrust forward, jabbing into Albus with brutal force. 

Albus cried out. 'Stop! Stop it.' He dug his nails into his palms, gritting his teeth against the real pain. 'You're hurting me, Mr Malfoy.'

' _You're hurting me, Mr Malfoy,_ ' Draco imitated him. With a snarl, he snapped his hips, seating himself entirely within Albus' arse. 

Overwhelmed, Albus shook. 'Please,' he said in a small voice. 'Please stop. It hurts so much.' He was gratified to feel a tear roll down the side of his head. 

Concern flickered in Draco's eyes. 'Alb–'

'Don't ruin it,' said Albus. He'd never cried during the game before. He'd tried, but hadn't been able to reach that point. And now Draco was losing his nerve and Albus was so close. He needed it. He needed the release. He held Draco's eyes again, gave him a hard look, and then spat in his face. 

Draco gasped. Lip curled, he wiped the moisture away. 'You little shit,' he said. His face settled into a mask of anger. 'You deserve this.' He pulled back and then thrust in again so hard that Albus' entire body jerked. Draco's cock felt like a lightning rod inside of him. Draco made another thrust, and Albus wailed. 'You,' said Draco, breathless, 'are just as delicious as I suspected.' He thrust a few more times, then fell into a steady rhythm, fucking Albus with savage cruelty. 

Albus squirmed and whimpered. He couldn't stop him. He couldn't do anything. As Draco took his pleasure, Albus could only lay crying and helpless beneath him. He stopped performing. The sex felt real and merciless, and transcendent, pain and pleasure twisted together until he couldn't tell them apart. His cock, hard and swollen, bobbed over his stomach.

'Look how much you love this,' said Draco, teeth bared. 'You filthy little slut. You ridiculous whore. You wanted to be ravaged. You were begging for it.' 

'Nooo,' said Albus. He shook his head, his face wet with tears. 'No, you're making me. You're forcing me.'

'Liar,' said Draco. He increased the speed of his thrusts. 'You're loving every second. You're going to come, I can feel it.'

'I won't,' said Albus. 'I won't, I won't.' But his body was already tightening. Draco shifted, and Albus moaned. 'No,' he gasped. 'No, no, nooo!' And then he did come, with a shuddering sob. He curled his toes up tight and shook. 

'My god, Albus,' said Draco. Red faced, his hair flopping over his eyes, he thrust twice more and then went still, his face creased with pleasure, and then collapsed. 

The ropes had vanished, so Albus wrapped his arms around Draco's back and held him. He struggled to catch his breath. 

'I love you,' said Draco, panting.

'I love you too,' said Albus, because he did and also knew Draco needed to hear it. 'Thank you,' he said. 'Thank you, thank you, I love you.'

____________________

Draco had asked Albus, once, if there had been an experience that led to his desires. Albus was happy to reassure Draco that no, it was just how he was. He didn't know why he liked this kind of game. He just knew that he did. He really, really liked it. Maybe Albus was selfish. Draco did seem to enjoy himself, though, even if he was doing it primarily for Albus' pleasure. 

Stretching his arms over his head, Albus luxuriated in the steaming hot bubble bath. Draco, sitting cross legged on a chair in his dressing gown, stared into the distance.

'What's wrong?' asked Albus. 'You're so quiet.'

Draco looked at him. The corner of his mouth turned up. Albus caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrored wall and laughed. His hair was completely covered in foamy bubbles. He ran his fingers through it to regain some dignity. 

'No more crying,' said Draco. 

'Oh,' said Albus. 

'It's going too far, Albus. I'm not made of stone.'

'But–'

Draco held up a hand. 'Hard limit.'

'Right.' Albus tried not to let his disappointment show. 'Okay.'

Draco stared down at his hands. He stretched his fingers and examined his thumbnail. 

'Are you alright?' asked Albus.

Draco sighed. 'I like giving you pleasure. You know that. I enjoy helping you live out a fantasy. But…' He shook his head. 'When I was young–'

'You're still young.'

'Yes, well.' A smile bloomed and then vanished. 'When I was younger than you are now–'

'You're going to talk about the war, aren't you?' Albus tried and failed to keep a note of irritation out of his voice.

Draco looked up. 'Yes, Albus, I'm going to talk about the war. The experiences had lasting effects and are relevant to what I want to express to you now.' He stared Albus down with not quite anger… Distress. Draco was upset. 

Trying to make up for it, Albus put on his imitation Draco accent and waved his hand. 'Go on then. If you must.'

Draco flicked him on the nose.

'Ow.' He responded to Draco's raised eyebrows by saying, 'Tell me. I'm listening.'

Eyebrows creased, Draco gazed at the ceiling long enough for Albus to have to restrain himself from prodding him. Finally, Draco spoke. 'I've caused people pain in the past. Through my own mistakes and because I was forced to.'

'What do you mean, caused people pain? You've never…' Albus wouldn’t believe it. 'You've never really–'

'No, of course not!'

'Yeah,' said Albus. 'I know. You'd never do anything like that; that's why I feel safe with you.'

Draco blinked, then leant over and kissed him. He stroked Albus’ face, then pulled back again. 'I'm talking about the Cruciatus Curse. Primarily.'

Goose pimples broke out across Albus' skin. He thought of Scorpius writhing on the ground as Delphi held her wand on him. Of the tear tracks down his cheeks afterwards. Of his own helpless rage as he'd watched. It had happened over a decade ago, but still felt fresh in his mind. Without thinking, he asked, 'Why didn't you just refuse?'

Draco's muscles stiffened. 'Because he would have killed me, Albus.'

'Oh.' Albus regretted the question. 'You mean, Voldemort. He made you.'

Draco blinked. 'The ease with which you young people mention his name. It never fails to surprise me.'

'Why? It's just a name?'

'Yes,' said Draco with a strange little smile. 'It's just a name.' He sighed. 'You and Scorpius–'

'Oi! You're breaking the rule.' When they were together like this, Draco wasn't allowed to mention Albus' best friend, and Albus wasn't allowed to mention his father. And vice versa, of course.

'I beg your pardon.' Draco rolled his eyes. 'But you were lucky to have grown up when you did. To be able to open yourself up to these sorts of fantasies without the complexity of having lived through trauma.'

Albus took a moment. 'You do remember that time I killed my own father and destroyed the world, right?'

'That was only temporary.'

'Still. T'wasn't a particularly nice experience.'

'I'm certain it wasn't.'

Albus scrubbed at his hair. He sunk beneath the bubbles and held his breath as long as he could. He thought about what Draco had said, considered what he was trying to tell Albus. Albus couldn’t really know what it had been like for Draco. Draco could be scary and even mean, but he was a good person. That sort of thing was important to Albus. Draco called it his ‘streak of Potter righteousness’, which Albus hated, because he knew that Draco really meant, ‘You get that from your father.’ 

That was it, he realised. ‘You don’t understand because you didn’t live through the war’ bothered him because it was an idea he associated with his dad. That’s why it rankled. And that was unreasonable. Also, Albus really needed to breathe. 

He resurfaced, caught his breath, and said, ‘Okay, I understand. And I won’t do it again. Of course.’ 

‘Thank you,’ said Draco. He smoothed back his hair, a strange expression on his face. 

Albus wouldn’t try and get him to change his mind. He knew he probably could if he tried–Draco would do anything for him. But the idea of hurting Draco, of making him do something that genuinely upset him, made Albus feel sick. ‘But if we could find something that gives me the same… It’s just that you’re so, I don’t know… Perfect.’

Draco snorted. ‘Good to know you have a realistic–.’

‘No, I mean, yeah.’ Albus wrinkled his nose and flicked his fingers at Draco, sprinkling him with bath water. ‘I meant, like, when you’re arguing in front of the Wizengamot. You never crack, you’re like a machine, mowing down everything in your path.’ He leant back, enjoying his memories. ‘That’s what did it for me, you know. What made me want you. You used to tell me off for sloppy note taking, remember? It’s just ‘cause I was so absorbed in watching you work.’ 

Draco smirked. ‘I was certain your abysmal note-taking was because you enjoyed being reprimanded.’

‘Well, that too,’ said Albus. He grinned. ‘My point is, I’m not like you. I can’t turn my inner self off like you do.’

‘Is that what you see?’

‘It’s just how I’m describing it. I know my cases aren’t as high pressure as yours, but it’s still hard for me. All those people–the most important people–staring at me, listening to everything I say, judging me… It’s hard to stay calm. And then Smith starts having a go, you know what he’s like, how he tries to get under my skin. He makes me so angry I want to hex his face off, but I have to hold it in. It’s not easy for me like it is for you. So, afterwards, I have all this–’ he gestured to his chest ‘–all this _pressure_ inside me. And sometimes when we’re playing, I can feel it, like it wants to explode right out.’ He looked at Draco, eyebrows raised. ‘That’s what the crying was about. It’s a release. That’s all.’

‘I see.’ Draco lost some of the tension in his posture. He nodded. ‘That does give me some clarity. Well, maybe then–’

‘No, you don’t like it. I won’t do it again. Not during that kind of scene.’

‘But maybe a different sort of scene.’

‘Yeah.’ Albus stood up in the bath and watched Draco’s eyes darken as he took in the water running down his body. Grinning, Albus cocked his head to the side. ‘I thought I might take a little stroll through your bedroom.’

‘Dry off first, you’ll drip all over the carpet and it’s–’

‘Woven out of Chinese silk, I know.’ He stepped out of the bath and walked to the ensuite’s doorway. He looked back at Draco, one eyebrow raised. He extended his arm and waited until a drop of water pooled at his fingertip, then shook it to the floor. He lifted his foot to step into the bedroom, and paused. 

‘I’d tell you not to take another step,’ said Draco, rising to his feet. His eyes shone with amusement and anticipation. ‘But I don’t suppose it would do any good.’

‘Sorry,’ said Albus. ‘I just can’t help myself.’ He gave Draco a wicked smile. ‘You know how I do so enjoy being reprimanded.’ He strode into the bedroom, dripping water onto the carpet, and waited for Draco to follow.


End file.
